


Contact

by MajorPidge (ScoracleTrash)



Series: Dressage [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Teasing, this is just the tip of the iceberg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:14:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25394452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScoracleTrash/pseuds/MajorPidge
Summary: Hux isn’t behaving himself at work and Pryde thinks he knows why. But will his attempt to implement his remedy be successful?
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Enric Pryde
Series: Dressage [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839196
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Contact

**Author's Note:**

> Contact: the interaction between a horse and rider by way of the reigns.

Pryde would not have argued with anyone who stated that Armitage Hux was too young for the position he occupied under Supreme Leader Snoke. The young man was impressive, that there was no denying, but the loss of Starkiller Base was a blow the First Order could not afford. It was an error Snoke should not have made, placing a young man with no real combat experience over something so invaluable, but then Snoke’s actions, when he was alive, often made no sense to Pryde, as if he were playing a long game none of them could imagine and none of them would be privy to, as if he answered to something that knew more even than he did.

Not that it mattered now. Now, Pryde would have to make the best of commanding ground and naval forces under Kylo Ren. It was...not an ideal arrangement, but fortunately Ren and his ghouls were busy searching the Galaxy for artifacts and were willing to leave the running of the fleet and the infantry, and the little rigors of occupying territory, to those who knew the finer points of all such things.

There was, however, one major problem. General Hux was chafing with resentment under his new assignment reporting directly to Pryde, and the younger man was not as skilled at concealing his feelings and pressing on with work as he should have been. Pryde even thought, likely rightly, that the ruthless young officer might have designs on ending him, as he had, it was rumored, ended his own father some time ago.

This wouldn’t do, of course.

Pryde couldn’t have younger and inferior officers thinking Hux was allowed to speak to him in whatever tone he chose, to question his orders, to give any signs of disrespect, no matter how subtle. Something had to be done.

The luck of it was that Pryde was excellent at reading people, and so, reading Hux like a book, and seeing right to the heart of his resentment, he knew exactly what to do. There were layers to the issue, of course. The boy’s cheek would have to be corrected. The boy’s assumptions would have to be corrected, as well. But most of all, the boy’s shame. Shame surrounding something that Pryde had been aware of since the first time the pretty young man had failed to meet his gaze across the High Command table.

The interface on Pryde’s desk beeped to show someone was at the door. He pressed the button to admit them and stood.

“General Hux,” he said, his face emotionless, “Good. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, Allegiant General,” the younger man said, averting his eyes.

Hux stood tall in his uniform. His posture, at least, was perfect. The sculpted contours of his face were as neutral as he could make them, though his eyes showed a twinge of fear. Hands behind his back, he appeared larger than he was, a thin switch of a man beneath the uniform, skin likely soft from being forever protected from the elements.

“You may sit,” Pryde said as he did so. Hux followed suit across the desk.

Pryde waited silently until Hux could no longer avoid looking at him. The young man’s green eyes dared to flit to his own and hold them for an instant before fixing on Hux’s own hands in his lap. Pryde cleared his throat, and Hux looked up at him again.

“You have trouble holding eye contact, soldier.”

“I,” Hux swallowed with noticeable difficulty, “Forgive me, sir.”

“Forgiveness comes with corrected behavior,” Pryde said quietly, turning his attention to a model of an old Star Destroyer sitting before his interface, which he touched delicately, “These last few weeks you have exhibited behavior in need of correction.”

“I beg your pardon, Allegiant General?”

Silence hung in the air for a moment. Each man seemed to be sizing up the other, but Hux dared not speak first, and so it was Pryde who said,

“First and foremost, Hux, I owe you an apology. I know for much of your life I appeared to be great friends with your father, and I’m certain that is an unforgivable offense to you. Perhaps it might offer some consolation that it was purely professional interest, and, well, I was having an affair with Maratelle for most of it.”

Pryde let himself smirk at the way the young man coughed and turned pink.

“I-I’m appreciative of the consideration, Allegiant General, but what is past is past. My father holds no relevance to the future of the First Order.”

“If you truly believed that the past is the past, Hux, then you would not have exhibited the behavior you have over the last three weeks.”

“Please, don’t think any of my ire is directed at you, Allegiant General! If I have given that impression, I apologize, I’m merely-“

“Merely crushing under the realization that now you are no longer in command, but must answer to someone older, someone who made nice with your father, someone you consider a relic better left to rot in the unknown regions, is that it?” Pryde’s voice was perfectly level, even a whisper.

“I-I could never think that about you, sir,” Hux said, looking down again.

“Look at me when I speak to you, Armitage.”

Hux turned pink again, his mouth open in surprise at the use of his given name.

“I see three principle problems with the way you view this new chain of command that are affecting your ability to convincingly act like an inferior officer who holds respect for those above him,” Pryde went on, his eyes locking uncomfortably into Hux’s and staying there as he spoke, “First, you assume you are the smartest man in any room, including at the High Command table, and that you have nothing to learn from those older and more seasoned than yourself.”

Hux swallowed again.

“On this first point I will be absolutely clear, Armitage. I am your commanding officer and even were I not I would rank you based on my time as a General compared to yours. Your status as Snoke’s favorite General was always unofficial and means nothing now that Ren is Supreme Leader. You will be respectful toward me. You will use respectful words and a respectful tone. My right-hand man cannot behave like a spoiled brat on the verge of a tantrum. If he does so consistently, he might just find himself a Colonel.”

“Yes, Allegiant General.” Hux was sweating.

“Secondly,” Pryde stood now and began to slowly move across the space behind his desk, his gloved hands lingering on the back of his chair, “You make the mistake of assuming that because I was appointed Allegiant General by Kylo Ren, that I hold him in any sort of esteem. That I think him worthy of the title of Supreme Leader. He, too, is far too young to be commanding anyone or anything, and at the first available opportunity I intend to wrest control of this enterprise from him.”

Hux coughed.

“I know I can say this to you because I know you will not say it to him. For one thing, you hate him far too much to give him any information that would be helpful to him. For another, that would be betraying and therefore disrespecting your commanding officer, and I’ve made clear I won’t have that, haven’t I? You are not even to speak to Kylo Ren outside my presence, are we clear?”

“Yes, Allegiant General,” he almost seemed to tremble, as if he knew what was coming.

Pryde circled the desk and put his hands on Hux’s shoulders.

“Finally, Armitage, we come to the principle problem. And that is that you desperately wish you could hate me as you hate all remnants of the Empire that remind you of your father, and yet you can’t.”

“I...I don’t know what you’re speaking of, Allegiant General,” Hux stammered.

“Don’t you?” Pryde asked, so very near Hux’s ear.

Hux made a move to stand and found the ebonwood of Pryde’s crop across his throat, not pressing, but touching the skin. He leaned his head back somewhat to give himself some distance, in attempt to look down at it.

“You watch this when I talk. When I give orders. When I patrol the bridge. Something to look at that isn’t my eyes? Or something more? And why is it that you cannot meet my eyes, Armitage? What shame prevents you?”

In an instant Pryde was back to his side of the desk. He looked as put-together as ever, with a smirk of satisfaction on his features, but Hux looked ruffled, as if he might begin to cry.

“You didn’t ride on Arkanis. The climate wasn’t suited to it, to horses. Alsakan was different,” Pryde said, “I was born on a horse’s back. You never strike a horse in anger, Armitage, you strike them when it benefits you both. It cannot be the sum of your relationship with your mount; the rest of your time must be filled with patience and tenderness. Perhaps if you’r father kept horses rather than nerfs, he’d have been a better man.”

“I don’t understand, sir,” Hux was barely able to say.

“You never had anyone to mentor you. Not really. No one who took it upon themselves to train and educate you selflessly. Now you’re a man without direction. Without purpose. You’ve made your purpose the amassing of prestige and power and you feel you’ve failed in that. You can’t see that being second in command of a military before age 40 is a vast achievement on its own. You kill yourself over your failure at Starkiller when you shouldn’t have been in command in the first place. You have been set up to fail your entire life because no one expected greatness of you.”

“Sir-“

“And yet I see you in possession of the potential to be one of the most powerful men in the Galaxy, if you only had some guidance.”

“What are you suggesting?” Hux asked, his throat dry.

“Come here.”

Hux took a half step forward, then hesitated.

“Your commanding officer has summoned you, Armitage.”

The way the words purred forth from Pryde’s lips destroyed any defiance left in the younger man. This was exactly as the ranking man had intended it. Hux walked around the desk and faced Pryde.

Pryde put his hand at the back of Hux’s head, and kissed him.

Hux had to have seen it coming, and yet he was shocked, hesitant for a moment, even resistant, but it all died when the hand at the back of his head tugged at his orange hair.

It was indescribable. It was more than just a few weeks of tension. It was an entire lifetime of longing for closeness, of being removed from pleasant touch, that suddenly ended as full lips met full lips. 

“Let me lead you, Armitage,” the older man sighed against his mouth, both their eyelids heavy with the desire they had been denying for weeks now, “Please. Let me teach you. You have so much to learn, and I have so much to offer you. Let yourself trust me. I promise you, when we’re done, the Knights of Ren will be a distant memory, and the Galaxy will be ours.”

“H-How did you know?” Armitage stammered softly.

“That you wanted me?” Pryde laughed, “It was simple. Hatred is easy to detect in someone’s eyes. When they won’t even look at you, something else entirely is going on. You’re ashamed, aren’t you?”

Hux looked down again, but a long finger caught his chin and turned it upward as Pryde spoke, “You have nothing to feel ashamed of. Desire is not weakness. Neither is failing when you’ve been set up to fail. For that matter, neither is needing guidance. In fact, those who serve their masters faithfully are the strongest in the Galaxy.”

“I promised myself I would have no master,” said Armitage, bristling.

“And look where that has gotten you,” Pryde patted his cheek softly, “Now I’m going to ask you. Will you accept my guidance? Will you let me lead you? Properly.”

Armitage sighed, “I’m going to guess if I say no, then you’re never going to kiss me again.”

“That would be correct.”

“I don’t think I could stand that.”

“Then answer me.” Pryde’s head tilted.

A great sigh left Armitage’s body after a moment.

“Yes. Yes, I will. I’ll trust you. I’ll respect you. I’ll let you have your way.”

“Have my way? That may be getting a little ahead of things, boy,” Pryde laughed.

Armitage whimpered.

“In due time, pet, in due time.”

“And what am I to do until then?”

“Wait patiently. We have much to negotiate, but that will come another time.” Pryde took a seat at his desk and tapped at his interface.

“Then is that it?” Armitage whined.

“Yes, that’s it. For now. I’ll see you here again at the same time in two days. In the meantime, do practice that respectful tone for me, won’t you, pet?”

Armitage whimpered again, and the laugh in Pryde’s throat was dark and triumphant.

The young man knew somehow he was defeated. He wasn’t getting anything more out of Pryde tonight, no matter how desperately he wanted to.

“May I be dismissed, Allegiant General?”

“Yes, General Hux, you may,” Pryde said, smirk still playing at his lips, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

The young man’s stiff footsteps receded from the room, the doors opened, and he was gone.

That had gone perfectly. Better than expected, in fact, Pryde thought. It would not be long before he and his new charge were having very productive evenings indeed.


End file.
